


Mr. Self Control

by ifitwasribald



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifitwasribald/pseuds/ifitwasribald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You’re overthinking.”</i>
  <br/><i>Bruce's weary smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.  "Occupational hazard."</i>
  <br/><i>“Right.  You’re Mr. Self Control.”  Clint eyed him speculatively.  "So... do you have to do that, because of--?”</i>
  <br/><i>“Not exactly-- not anymore.  Don’t worry, I wouldn't be doing this at all if--"</i>
  <br/><i>"Gotcha.  So if I wanted to reduce you to a quivering mass of not-overthinking...?”</i>
  <br/><i>“You’re welcome to try.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Self Control

**Author's Note:**

> For a kinkmeme post at http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/9218.html?thread=20704002#t20704002

Bruce arched back as Clint gave a slight twist to one nipple. Clint murmured appreciatively and turned his attention to Bruce’s throat, letting a day’s growth of his stubble rasp against the sensitive skin as he sucked and kissed his way up to Bruce’s ear. Clint allowed his hand to slide down Bruce’s stomach and along one hip to rest between his thighs, carefully avoiding his straining cock.

Bruce’s hips shifted, trying to get some kind of contact with Clint’s hand, and Clint chuckled softly into Bruce’s ear. “Eager, are we?”

Bruce smiled. “Yes,” he answered simply. “So if you don’t mind...?”

“The thing is,” Clint’s fingers started tracing patterns on Bruce’s thigh, “you never really sound like it. No swearing, no moaning, no begging,” he emphasized that last word by taking Bruce’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down gently, a move which never failed to make Bruce shiver with pleasure. But, as expected, he made no sound in answer. “The best I get out of you is an occasional gasp,” Clint noted, sounding a little put out.

Bruce frowned. “I don’t really-- I could try,” he offered uncertainly.

Clint hummed against Bruce’s throat and brought his hand up to graze against Bruce’s cock. Bruce gave an exaggerated moan, so loud and sudden that Clint collapsed into giggles.

“What?”

“You’re-- well, you did say you’d _try_.” Clint leaned over Bruce and pressed a long, slow kiss against his lips. “You’re overthinking.”

Bruce's weary smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Occupational hazard."

“Right. You’re Mr. Self Control.” Clint eyed him speculatively. "So... do you have to do that, because of--?”

“Not exactly-- not anymore. Don’t worry, I wouldn't be doing this at all if--"

"Gotcha. So if I wanted to reduce you to a quivering mass of not-overthinking...?”

“You’re welcome to try.”

Clint's smile broadened into a grin that was very nearly feral. "I think I’m going to need you at my mercy for this--cool?”

Bruce nodded, his expression still mostly amused, but a little bit challenging. 

Suddenly both of Bruce’s wrists were in Clint's grasp, and seconds later Clint's belt bound them firmly to the headboard. “Right. Now where were we?” he murmured.

“I’m pretty sure you were about to suck me.”

“Hmm... was I?” Clint ignored Bruce’s glare and bent to take one nipple between his lips, flicking it with his tongue before gently raking his teeth over the sensitive skin. Bruce offered a little hum of approval, but one that demonstrated far too much composure for Clint’s taste.

He moved lower, ghosting his lips over Bruce’s belly, again avoiding his cock to lavish attention on one hip. Clint pressed a kiss against Bruce’s hip bone and nipped lightly before spreading Bruce’s legs and licking along the inside of his thighs.

Bruce shivered silently and wriggled downward, trying to press himself closer to Clint.

Clint obliged, pressing his lips against the side of Bruce’s cock, enjoying the feel of velvet soft skin against his lips as he moved up and down the shaft, careful to avoid the head. It was easy to make this last--Clint honestly thought he could spend hours on that soft skin, the aching hardness under it, the way Bruce’s cock twitched in anticipation.

Bruce finally spoke, his voice almost hoarse. “Please?”

“Mmmm, almost sounds like you actually mean it,” Clint noted, and made a sudden move to take the head of Bruce’s cock between his lips, running his tongue around the crown and sucking hard for a split second.

Bruce gasped, and Clint rewarded him with another swipe of his tongue before pulling off to kiss down the shaft, this time parting his lips slightly to suck at little patches of the exquisitely soft skin. Bruce’s hips bucked, his cock glancing off Clint’s cheek and leaving a wet smear of pre-come there. Clint laughed, low in his throat, and Bruce tried another whispered “please.”

Clint swiped his tongue up along Bruce’s shaft and caught the head between his lips once more. This time he spent barely a heartbeat on the head before sliding down to take every inch of Bruce’s cock into his mouth and deep in his throat. Bruce bucked up again and gave a tiny, strangled moan that turned to a growl of frustration as Clint pulled off again, letting Bruce’s cock spring free with an obscene pop.

“Better,” Clint murmured as he kissed down the underside of Bruce’s shaft and kept going, letting Bruce feel his hot breath over his balls before spreading his lips to lick and suck at one. 

Bruce arched up and scrambled for purchase with his toes, spreading his legs farther still and letting a tiny noise escape his lips. Clint hummed against Bruce’s skin and sucked him in, tonguing one of Bruce’s balls as the man’s whole body trembled with need.

Clint pulled back again and slid his arms under Bruce’s knees, pushing them up. He ducked his head, and even before he made contact Bruce let out an honest-to-God moan as he realized what Clint was about to do. 

The sound went straight to Clint’s cock, and he briefly regretted that his hands were too busy to slide one down to stroke himself.

But the noise that Bruce made when his tongue found Bruce’s tight hole was definitely worth it. It was pitched higher than Clint would have expected, incoherent and wordless and definitely the most delicious thing Clint had ever heard in his life. 

He laved Bruce’s opening with his tongue, circling the little pink pucker as Bruce squirmed underneath him.

“God you’re hot,” Clint murmured before resuming his ministrations, listening to Bruce’s breath quicken and catch. He reached around Bruce’s thigh and over his hip to take his cock in a loose grip, and Bruce bucked up into it and back down to press harder against Clint’s clever tongue.

Clint knew that at this rate Bruce wasn’t going to last long, and he definitely wasn’t having that. 

He used his free hand to press Bruce’s hips down, and grasped the base of his cock tightly with the thumb and forefingers of his other hand. Bruce made a sound that was definitely a whine, but Clint held firm and gave Bruce another few heartbeats to back away from the edge before releasing his cock altogether.

Clint returned his attention to Bruce’s opening, pressing one finger inside just to the first knuckle, and licking the ring of muscle around it.

“More,” Bruce gasped out, gratifyingly flustered this time. “Fuck, please.”

“That,” Clint drawled, “is definitely more like it.” He pushed his finger in deeper as he brought his mouth back up to Bruce’s cock, running his tongue around the head. He added a second finger and hummed against the head of Bruce’s cock, enjoying Bruce’s helpless squirming for a moment before slowly and deliberately deepthroating him.

Bruce moaned as Clint backed off a little and then bobbed forward until his nose was pressed against Bruce’s pelvis and the head of his cock filled the back of his throat. Two more strokes like that and Bruce was cursing.

“Damn, Clint, oh fuck, I’m going to--”

“No you’re not,” Clint assured him wickedly, his mouth suddenly free of Bruce’s cock and his fingers already firmly grasping the base. “You’re definitely waiting until I get the chance to fuck your brains out.”

“OK, yes, good, that. Do that. Please.”

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?”

Clint pulled on a condom and made a show of slicking himself, careful to keep his grip loose. He was altogether too close already, and he wanted to make this last.

He grabbed Bruce’s hips and considered his position. “Hang on,” he warned, and deftly flipped Bruce onto his front, up on his knees with his wrists still tied against the base of the headboard so that his ass canted up obscenely.

Clint bent forward and gently bit the flesh of one side of Bruce’s ass, eliciting a strangled whine. Yeah, this had definitely been his best idea _ever_.

He parted the cheeks of Bruce's ass and swirled his tongue over Bruce's opening once more.

"Ohgod, Clint, please."

Clint pulled away to answer, enjoying the disappointed noise that resulted. "Please what?"

"Fuck me. Please fuck me.”

Clint’s only answer was the head of his cock pressed against Bruce’s opening. Bruce strained against his restraints, trying to thrust his ass back onto Clint’s cock, but without success. 

Clint rested his hands on Bruce’s hips and waited.

Bruce whined in frustration. Clint ran his thumbs over either side of Bruce’s ass, but otherwise remained motionless.

“Damnit Clint please, I need it, plea-- oh fuck yes, yes!” Clint thrust forward very slowly, allowing the head of his cock to breach the tight ring of muscle. Bruce’s words dissolved into a moan of approval as Clint continued to press in until his hips were hard against Bruce’s ass.

“Yesmoreyes,” Bruce begged, and Clint groaned in reply. He’d intended to draw this out, but the sound of Bruce moaning underneath him was too much. He snapped his hips back and plunged in again, pumping to the time of Bruce’s voice.

Clint wasn’t sure anymore what moans were his and which were Bruce’s. Didn’t care anyway, didn’t care about anything but the hot tightness and the vibrating need of Bruce’s body.

He gripped Bruce’s hips tighter, lifting them slightly, and suddenly he could definitely tell which sounds were Bruce’s, because halfway through every stroke they skipped up an octave and went straight to Clint’s core. 

It was too much and exactly right, and Clint let go completely, pounding into Bruce as the other man cried out, his untouched cock spattering hot ropes of come against his own chest. Clint gave a final thrust and slumped against Bruce, his head swimming as waves of dizzy pleasure washed over him.

They collapsed together in a sweaty, sated heap. After a long moment, Clint kissed Bruce’s temple, enjoying the salt tang of the other man’s sweat. Bruce gave a low murmur of appreciation, and Clint grinned. 

“Mission accomplished.”


End file.
